


Funny, You Don't Look Like a Vigilante

by Mara



Category: Robin - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim goes to visit his grandmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funny, You Don't Look Like a Vigilante

**Author's Note:**

> I...there's really no excuse for this, but I'm going to blame it on Chevauchee anyway, for putting this idea in my head. And Missy for pointing me to the site that started the whole thing. This fits perfectly into the DCFlashfiction Lord King Bad Fanfic Challenge...

"You're such a nice boy," Bubbe Rose said, patting Tim's cheek.

He grinned, leaning back in the overstuffed chair. "I hear a 'but' coming."

"But you never call, you never write." Tim's grandmother pushed the plate of Entenmann's chocolate chip cookies closer to him. "And you're still dating that shiksa."

"Bubbe..."

"Stephanie, she seems very nice for a shiksa, mind you. But what about Melba Goldberg's granddaughter?"

Tim shuddered. "She has the brains of a flea."

"Hmm, you're right." Frowning, Bubbe sipped her tea. "Then I'll look for someone else."

"No!" When she raised her eyebrows at him, he took a deep breath and moderated his tone. "Please don't. I know you mean well, but even if you found the perfect girl, I don't have a lot of time for a girlfriend. Steph and I barely see each other these days."

"Ah!" She put up a wrinkled finger. "That reminds me: When are you going to stop running around Gotham in that silly costume?"

Tim spit tea all over himself. "Wha--?"

As she patted him with a towel, Bubbe shook her head. "You think I didn't figure out immediately that you're Robin? With your mother, olav ha'shalom, gone, it's my responsibility to keep an eye on you. It's not my fault she married that idiot Jack Drake, who was such a bad influence on her."

Tim dabbed at his pants, sensibly ignoring the last statement. "I...Bubbe, I can't stop. What I do is too important. Please, don't tell my dad."

Smiling gently, Bubbe patted his cheek. "Of course I won't tell him. It's just that I worry about you."

"I know." Tim took another deep breath. "But how did you know?"

Bubbe sniffed as she picked up a cookie. "Where do you think you got your brains from anyway, bubelah? From your father's side of the family? Feh."

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to end this story with Bubbe expressing concern that people were going to call Tim "Faygele" but I realized that 1 in a 100 of my readers would get the double language pun.
> 
> :coughs nervously: "Faygele" is Yiddish slang for homosexual. Literally it, uh, it means "little bird."
> 
> Oh god, I'm so ashamed.


End file.
